


FireFlight783

by AmarahOsiris



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Online Dating, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Initial Rejection, Injured Sam Winchester, No Smut, Online Dating, SPN AU & Trope Bingo, Square Filled: Online Dating, injured reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-09-24 13:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17101880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmarahOsiris/pseuds/AmarahOsiris
Summary: Sam decides to try his luck at online dating. Given how disastrous his dating life has been in the past, he’s hoping for a change. Enter username FireFlight783, and she’s exactly what he’s looking for. He keeps the family business a secret. Little does he know, she’s doing the exact same thing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written For the SPN AU Bingo  
> Square Filled: Online Dating

* * *

 

Browsing the computer for his next case, Sam Winchester couldn’t seem to focus. His mind kept wandering to what his brother, Dean, was pestering him about the other day.

_“You need to get out more, meet a woman, get some happy in your life! I’m tired of seeing you miserable, man. Do what I do. Go to a bar, find yourself a nice looking girl, and get your happy on!”_

While Sam had no intention of finding a girl his brother’s way, he had been thinking maybe it was time to start dating again. But every time he found a girl worth keeping around, she either left because, well, that was just his luck.

Or she died. Which sadly for him, happened more than the former outcome. Sam was tired of it. It wasn’t like he  _didn’t_ want love in his life, of course he did. After all the shit him and his brother had been through in their relatively short lives, he felt he  _deserved_  some sort of a happy ending.

But Sam had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting it the way most people did. Meeting someone on the streets, through a friend or family member (seeing as he didn’t have any of those left besides Dean), or a by chance meeting somewhere obscure.

Oh sure, he’d met plenty of female hunters who could kick his ass around a room in a heartbeat. But they were either already with someone or loners, like himself. And all of them just weren’t his type.

No, Sam wanted someone smarter than him. Someone who could still kick his ass around when he needed it, but also shared the same compassion and empathy he held close to his chest. He wanted a woman who wouldn’t run away when shit got hard.

But more than that, he wanted someone to come home to after a hard hunt. Someone who would stay by his side when he was depressed, or angry, going through a drinking binge when life got too hard to stay sober. He regretted those times in his life but they were there, and it wasn’t like he could predict them never happening again.

_Yeah right,_  Sam begrudgingly thought to himself.  _Women like that don’t exist._

_…but I could at least try…_

—–

“Loveawaits.com,” Sam said with a scoff to no one in particular one day in the bunker’s library.

He had dared himself to do an internet for online dating websites and this particular one, “loveawaits.com,” was at the top of the list for best online dating results. According to their website, ninety-four percent of the matches made on their site reported being permanently together in some way, be it marriage or domestic partnership or whatever.

While the end results they promised seemed enticing to Sam, he did a bit more digging. He watched a few online videos featuring testimonials of real couples who had been matched on the site and ended up married. Sam wasn’t really the marrying type, because that usually meant settling down. His life didn’t allow for such luxuries.

But, the couples featured in the videos seemed legit to him, therefore he decided to put a bet on his heart, and clicked the “sign up now” icon on the website’s home page.

After a few minutes, and several questionnaires about himself and the kind of person he was looking for (most of it lies), his profile was successfully created. He declined to use a picture of himself and instead chose a photo of his pistol. Besides, he didn’t have a whole lot of good photo of himself to begin with.

Within about fifteen minutes of creating the profile, emails started coming in with potential matches.

About forty-seven emails to be exact.

“Wow,” Sam breathed. “What have I gotten myself into?”

The only reason Sam was able to get through all the emails in one sitting was because Dean wasn’t coming back for a while. He apparently decided to, “take his own advice” as Dean put it, and booked a motel room for a few days. Sam was all too happy to let Dean go without any of his usual little brother bantering. He didn’t want any of the big brother bantering in return for signing up for an online dating account.

Pretty much all of the matches he received didn’t even register with him. As much as Sam didn’t like to be materialistic or judgmental, he had to admit that most of the women weren’t all that attractive. He could tell just from what they said in their opening statements that most of them would be the running away type if they knew what he and his brother did for a not-living.

He automatically deleted the ones featuring men. It was clear to Sam that the website’s algorithm didn’t have a clear filter when someone specified they were straight. Or, more particularly for him, men who specified they were only looking for women. He just sighed and moved on.

Sam deleted the last of the match emails and let out a disgruntled breath. None of the matches he was given came close to what he wanted.  _How hard is it to find love online? There’s like, billions of people on the internet!_  He was about to close his laptop when it chimed again. Another email came in.

He bent over the table and touched the touchpad on his laptop to open the email. He was met with the title “Hello, @thatlawguy! Could This Be Your Soulmate?” that every single match email had started with, and right below it there was an icon of a firefly surrounded by a flaming building.  _Okay,_  he thought,  _that’s kinda cool._

“Meet @FireFlight783!” The email continued.

For online user safety, anyone who was matched was only given the matching party’s username as identification. The guidelines mentioned after using their “expertly cultivated” questionnaire, would you be allowed to exchange email addresses only. After a bit more communication, they suggested maybe exchanging Skype information.  _“Never give out your phone number or home address until you’re comfortable enough to trust your match”_ Sam remembered reading. So all he had to go on was a username, the woman’s age and a few facts she’d specified to be made public if she was matched with anyone.

_“I’m a 32 year old woman looking for a guy who doesn’t mind a 24/7 hot mess.”_

Sam blinked at the short yet riveting introduction. He sat back down and clicked on the link. It brought up FireFlight’s full profile.

With her being 32, she was his age, something he was definitely looking for. She was the owner of a pest control company, inherited from her father and grandfather. And she enjoyed silent nights with a good glass of wine and a good book. Her favorite places in the world were “a library, a fishing pier, and a shooting range” and her favorite foods were “organic anything with a occasional side of medium rare steak” and she “wanted a long relationship without the burden of marriage.”

Sam’s interested was finally captured. And he was excited.

He clicked the link to send this FireFlight’s a personal message.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written For: SPN AU Bingo  
> Square Filled: online dating

* * *

 

You were pretty much done with dating conventionally.

After so many boyfriends and hookups, both hunter and not hunter, and most of them ending up dead because they were associated with you, you felt it was time to look outside the box they called real life. So you signed up for a profile with loveawaits.com.

You had to admit the name was pretty fucking cheesy, but it boasted a high success rate of successful matches and marriages since its inception. But marriage wasn’t something you were looking for, unless it was for the right guy.

Sifting through the junk emails of guys, and girls, whom didn’t interest you, a new email chimed in your inbox. It read “Hey, @FireFlight783, You’ve Got A New Message!”

Clicking the link, it brought up a match that you must’ve missed because you didn’t recognize the username ‘thatlawguy’ at all. It would have at least looked familiar. But nonetheless, you observed the profile that loaded on your laptop screen.

_“Just a guy looking for love in a different place. One that doesn’t smell like the inside of a bar.”_

You chuckled at that opening line. Reading through the profile, you saw this ‘law guy’ was your age, albeit a bit older. He enjoyed a lot of the same things you did, fishing, quiet spaces, and you both were fond of going out for a therapeutic round of shooting at a range. For work, it stated this man owned this own garage with his older brother, the ‘family business’ he had labeled it. His profile picture was even a photo of a poorly-taken Taurus Model 99, which told you he’d taken it at some point in his life.

“Good choice,” you said to yourself. You patted the Desert Eagle 1911 tucked away under your bra for no real reason. Fellow hunters used to tell you that the 1911 wasn’t “for women” and would always recommend something like a Glock 19 or a Smith & Wesson Model 66. But you always managed to shut them up with how well you handled the forty-five caliber Magnum. It had been your father’s quicky weapon of choice and when he died on a hunt a few years ago, he passed it on to you.

In the corner of the screen, where the icon of the back of a traditional letter sat, there was a little “1” at the upper right corner of that, indicating you had an unread message waiting for you. You clicked on that and read it.

_@thatlawguy: Hi FireFlight. It looks like we were a match. Whatever that means, heh. Just wanted to say hey. Feel free to message me back, if you’re interested._

“I’ll be damned,” you breathed. Your Taurus toting match was messaging you first. You got excited, and didn’t hesitate to pull up a reply box.

_@fireflight783: hey yourself, stranger. I guess this is where we do that stupid questionnaire thing. I guess to make sure neither one of us are serial killers or something. Lol. I’ll be up for a while. Feel free to message me back anytime._

—–

Sam’s heart skipped a beat when he saw his message sent to you had a reply. He laughed at said reply. Then his smile faded.

If she knew the real me, Sam thought, she’d probably think I am a serial killer. Given what I am…

He pushed the dark thoughts away and started to type his reply.

_@thatlawguy: LMAO, sorry your reply made me laugh. I needed that, thanks. So, it says you like fishing. What’s the best fishing spot you’ve ever been to in your life? I’ll tell you mine first: there’s this small stream in the Missouri Ozarks that I went to when I was like 13. Plenty of fish, great open land to sit or stand comfortably and fish, and because of the laws, whatever fish you caught you got to keep. My dad and brother and I ended up camping there because it was essentially free dinner! And lunch for the next day ;)_

Waiting for thatlawguy’s reply felt like an eternity. You never thought you’d be so excited to partake in online dating and the shenanigans that came from it. But nonetheless, here you were having a great conversation with your mystery guy.

_@fireflight783: ooooh that sounds like a good time! Let me think…oh I know! When I was 11, my dad took me and my cousins out to the family cabin in Montana and it was the rare time of year where it was warm enough outside to actually go fishing. The stream that ran behind the house was normally covered in snow and ice caps. I’d never seen it fully thawed! We spent all day fishing. There were all kinds of fish and almost all of it was very delicious…I miss that place so damn much._

Sam and his mystery match spent the next five hours just trading stories and experiences, sharing about good times, likes and dislikes. By the time Sam was practically falling asleep at the keyboard of his laptop, he was completely captivated by FireFlight783.

He had to meet her. Sooner rather than later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written For: SPN AU Bingo  
> Square Filled: online dating

* * *

 

You went to bed at four in the morning floating on cloud nine.

Thatlawguy had to have been sent by some divine being. But not angels; every hunter worth their salt-round shotgun shells knew that real deal angels were dicks and couldn’t be trusted. No, this person was everything you could’ve wanted in a guy. He was clearly intelligent. He told you he graduated from Stanford with a degree in civil law (which explained the username) and that he was tired of constantly being buried in the stress of being a lawyer, so he fell back on his family trade, which was being a mechanic. He’s lived a relatively peaceful life ever since.

You told him your grandfather started a pest control business that uses nothing but organic materials that are safe for pets, children, and the environment yet lethal to the kinds of pests one would call a pest control company to exterminate. Short of the organic bullshit, you did kind of run a pest control business. But instead of mosquitoes, ants and spiders, you were an exterminator for werewolves, vampires, vengeful spirits and ghouls. All the nightmarish things parents told their kids about to keep them from misbehaving were the real pests in your life.

You had planned to keep that under the radar for now. Would you ever tell him? You didn’t know. But that didn’t stop you from daydreaming as you tried to fall asleep.

You definitely wanted to meet this guy. You could only imagine what he looked like. Given his level of smarts, he had to be sturdy and tall. Someone who carried himself with purpose, determination, and confidence. He probably had a beard too. You always thought men with beards had an inherent level of confidence in who they were.

The thoughts of your potentially-bearded mystery match did not leave you as you passed out for the night.

—

Sam couldn’t stop smiling.

He allowed his mind to wander about the future. How would he meet his mystery match? Would he run into a random woman and just know it was her? Or would it be like traditionally setting up a meeting? Where would they meet? A coffee shop? A library? Definitely wouldn’t be at the bunker. Not only would Dean never relent whatever teasing he would do behind her back, he’d completely lied to her about who he really was. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would take her finding out he hunted all the creepy things that haunted a child’s bedroom closet.

Would she be long-term relationship material? Sure, if she didn’t run away from him. But assuming she didn’t, and was totally okay with him being a hunter of true evil, would she want to live in the bunker, or would he have to move? Sam couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, especially away from his brother; him and Dean had been inseparable their entire lives, even well into their thirties.

Would she want to marry him? If so, how would that be done? Would it be traditional and fancy? Or something inside a courthouse, or hell, even Vegas? He’d never given any thought to how he would want to get married, or where. Well, it’s not like I’m getting any younger…and who knows how many more times I’ll have to die and come back before it’s permanent…

If they did get married, would they have children? And how many? Sam never imagined himself a father. There was a time when Jessica was still alive that he imagine her, and only her, bearing his children. Seeing her belly swell with his seed, glowing as she grows his baby inside her, watching as she brought said child into the world, seeing her be the awesome, badass mother he always wanted by his side. But Jessica had been dead for over a decade; at this point, Sam believed literally anyone could fill that void. But he wasn’t sure if bringing a child into this dangerous, monster-filled world was a good idea.

But that didn’t mean if he’d gotten a girl pregnant that he wouldn’t step up. I’d be the best damn father any kid could have. Sam bitterly thought he could do better than his own father did; but at the same time, he recognized now in his older age that John Winchester did the very best he could with what he had. It was far from perfect and he made a lot of mistakes in his raising of Sam and Dean, but Sam looked back now and felt proud John Winchester was his father.

He continued to think on these topics as his brain slowly shut down for a night of peaceful sleep.

—–

“Rise and shine Sammy!” Dean called out from Sam’s doorway, startling the younger Winchester.

“What time is it?” Sam grumbled in his sleepy state as he reached for his phone.

“It’s seven. Saved you a short stack in the kitchen,” Dean said, snacking on crispy bacon as he entered his brother’s bedroom. Sam yawned widely as he sat up, finding and putting on his slippers, scratching his bare stomach as he started making his bed.

“Why so gung-ho at this hour?” Sam asked, folding the last corner of slept-in sheet into the mattress. He stood up to put his shirt back on, which lay across the back of his desk chair.

“Found a case,” Dean said with a mouthful of bacony goodness. “Friend of a friend of Bobby’s called me. Told me there was a vengeful spirit up in Saginaw, Michigan.”

“So, what, a vengeful spirit case and they decided to call us? Couldn’t this friend of Bobby’s send someone else closer? I mean, we’re kinda out of the way,” Sam followed Dean towards the kitchen, and the sweet smell of cinnamon-sugar pancakes assaulted his senses. Sam’s stomach reacted audibly, causing him to blush slightly, placing a hand over his abdomen. Dean didn’t say anything and kept talking.

“Apparently there was a hunter already on the case. Chick named Y/N Y/L/N. Last time anyone heard from her was two weeks ago. Radio silent ever since.”

“So it’s not a case,” Sam grabbed the syrup from the cupboard, poured a generous amount over the pancakes and dug in, savoring the sweet and spiced flavors melting in his mouth. He chewed, swallowed, and went on, “it’s a rescue mission.”

“It’s both actually. Y/N’s a family friend of this guy and he wants us to not only go find her but take care of the spirit. He’s worried we’re gonna be building a pyre rather than bringing her home.”

“At this point, that’s probably exactly what we’ll be doing. Hunters that go missing for that long are almost always dead. And even then, there’s a slim chance of there being enough remains to run a pyre.”

“True, but he didn’t know who else to call. Like us, Bobby was like family to him. So I told him we’d go check it out.”

Sam poured himself a small glass of milk, chugged it down, and set his dishes in the sink. “Alright. Let me to shower, grab my bag and we’ll go.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean smiled as he finished off the last bacon piece.

—–

With gas stops and bathroom breaks, a day later found Sam and Dean checking into a motel in the heart of Saginaw’s main square. They decided to treat this like any other hunt: dress up like feds, start questioning the important people, then narrow down where this vengeful spirit was holed up at.

Within two days, the Winchesters were parking their father’s beloved ‘67 Impala outside the town’s oldest Victorian era house, complete with boarded up windows, peeling paint, three full sized floors, and every stain that a vengeful spirit’s presence could leave on a structure.

Dean kicked in the front door, salt-round sawed-off shotgun in one hand, flashlight in the other. Sam carried an Angel Blade and his own flashlight in each hand, and the two of them slowly strode through the once-prestigious home.

“Any idea what this Y/N girl looks like?” Sam whispered.

Dean pulled out his cell phone and flipped through the camera app. He handed it to Sam. “Bobby’s friend sent me this earlier today at my request.”

Sam took in the photograph. Whoever this Y/N was, she was beautiful. He was really hoping now that she was alive. Or at least intact enough to be properly put to rest. Hunter style.

The men split up, Dean covering the rest of the lower levels, Sam taking what he presumed to be the third floor attic space. The stairs creeks under his weight; not really shocking given what his weight was in combination with the aging structure. He saw a door slightly ajar and pushed it open with the flashlight. There, laying sprawled on the floor and unmoving, was their missing huntress.

Sam raced to her side, laying down the blade and flashlight, and straddled her body with his arms. Bending them at the elbows, Sam leaned towards her face and felt, ever so slightly, the movement of air.

She’s still breathing.

Sam repositioned himself to sit on his legs and took her into his arms. He gently slipped his index and middle fingers against the side of her neck, and was met with the faint blimp of a pulse, trying its hardest to beat enough to sustain life.

“Dean!” Sam called out harshly, and within seconds, his brother was by his side. Sam looked up at him. “She’s alive!”

Before Dean could say anything, you moaned in pain. Every muscle in your body was very sore and stiff. You knew a stranger was holding you but you had no energy to fight them. Your eyes opened to see a tall man with longish, chestnut colored hair, hazel eyes boring into yours with concern and worry. His partner, who was sitting beside him, had shorter hair and a dusting of freckles across his nose and cheeks. Both of them shared the same expression.

“Are you Y/N?” The shorter haired man asked. The one holding you brought you up to a sitting position. You nodded weakly, trying to find your voice. The man went on. “Okay, my name’s Dean, this is my brother Sam. You’ve been missing for a while now.”

You looked between them and, as your vision and cognition started coming back to you, found them both very handsome, easy on the eyes. You nodded at them both, attempting to swallow but found your throat too parched to complete the job. You coughed loudly.

“You need a doctor, clearly,” said Sam.

“No,” your cracked voice echoed in the hollowed attic space. “I need to finish this job.”

“I think my brother was very clear,” Dean said firmly. “You need a doctor. Let Sam take you to a hospital, I’ll stay here and finish this vengeful spirit case, okay?”

“It’s not a spirit,” you stammered out. “It’s a revenant.”

Both men blinked. “How do you know?”

“Didn’t find out til I got here. Until that time,” you took a breath, “all signs pointed to spirit. Killed four people before I got here, then two more afterwards.”

“Do you know who it is?” Sam asked.

“Yes, her name is-”

Just then, Dean was picked up from behind and thrown across the room. He crashed into a wall that nearly buckled; if the house had been anymore dilapidated, he would’ve fell three stories to his potential death.

Dean coughed and sputtered as he got to his feet and was met with a very angry, partially decayed woman who looked like she was here when the house was first built.

“Sammy get her out of here! I’ll finish this bitch off!”

Before you could get a chance to protest, Sam scooped you into his arms and fled the building. He carried you out towards the Impala.

“Wait!” Sam said in a hurry, facing you. “Revenants need a source of their anguish on Earth. Did you ever find out what their unfinished business was?”

“No, like I said, by the time I figured it was a revenant, I started building a way to lock it underground. Given all the murders, it’s not like I could’ve sat down with them to chat. It clocked me on the back of the head while I was digging. Grave’s already dug, an old fridge in the hole.”

“You gotta-”

“Silver blade to keep it from busting out? Yeah. Long pure silver pipe I found in the trash out back. If your brother can lead her to the hole, he should be able to lock her away for good.”

“Okay. Good. Now, let’s get you to the ER.”

—

As much as you wanted to protest, you were pretty sure you had a multi-layered concussion and it was screwing with your vision. You passed out again in Sam’s arms as the two of you waited for Dean to finish the job.

They both stayed with you while you got checked out. Turns out the concussion wasn’t as bad as you felt, and you were given a prescription for painkillers and sent on your way.

“So,” Dean began, eating from a bag of chips he got from a vending machine in the hospital’s lobby. “There some place we can drop you off?”

“My house,” you said, holding an ice pack to your head, “I live just outside Topeka.”

Sam and Dean looked between each other. “Really? We’re just outside Lebanon.”

“Small world,” you mused, eyeing Sam with interest. You could easily get lost in his eyes. Sam didn’t say anything but you saw the blush spreading across his face.

Sam and Dean dropped you off at your townhouse in the sprawling uptown suburb of Topeka, bade you goodbye and left. You had a sneaking feeling you would be seeing them again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written For: SPN AU Bingo  
> Square Filled: online dating

* * *

 

Getting home from that hunt made you feel weird.

Maybe it was the fact that you still had a concussion to nurse away. Or perhaps it was the fact that the person who sent you on the hunt in the first place had to call in other hunters to rescue your dumb ass.

You decided to stop lying to yourself. It had everything to do with the fact that the actual, legendary, story-worthy Sam and Dean Winchester were the ones who did the rescuing.

They were the only hunters worth telling stories about; in fact you’d heard most of them throughout the hunter grapevine over the years. Your dad used to tell you about his encounters with their father, John, and the untimely death of his wife that started their hunting journeys.

Seeing them in the flesh, with the scars and wounds that literally came from Heaven and Hell, constantly caught between the wars between angels and demons, and their friendships with angels and demons, made you dizzy even without a head injury.

Whatever was told about them, none of that held a candle to how fucking gorgeous they were. Men that beautiful and deliciously hot only existed in fantasy novels. Or so you thought. You were certain if they’d never become hunters, they would have easily become male underwear models. You’d pay all the money in the world to see that shit up close and personal.

The younger brother caught your eye more than the older one though. With his long hair, soul-piercing eyes, and holy fuck was he tall! You guessed his height to be around six-five and not an ounce of fat on him.

Sam was a dreamboat surrounded by an ocean of beauty and grace and you would willingly drown in that sea in half a heartbeat. But you felt like you were betraying your mystery match online by fantasizing over Sam. Besides, Sam probably had a special someone in his life that he didn’t have to resort to the internet finding for him. You’d never been that lucky, so why should you start thinking that way now?

You logged onto your computer and into your Love Awaits account. You had two messages. One from someone else trying to make contact, which you deleted, and one from thatlawguy.

_@thatlawguy: hey there, sorry for messaging you so late. Hope you had a good day today._

You quickly messaged him back.

_@fireflight783: no worries! Just got back from work. Had a late night thing at the office. And I don’t see myself going to bed anytime soon. Whatcha up to, law boy? Lol_

You chuckled at the nickname you’d given him. In less than a minute, a ping! sounded from your laptop.

_@thatlawguy: LOL law boy. I like that. I was 23 when I graduated from school so it’s really not inaccurate ;) nothing much, I actually just got back from work too. Had a late night oil change for a family friend. Normally he asks for this during business hours, but he couldn’t get away from work and his car was starting to act up over the bad air filters. I owed him a favor anyway so… I guess being the owner of a pest control company means you don’t always work conventional CEO hours, huh?_

_@fireflight783: no sadly not lol. One of my techs had an accident actually and I had to be there to ensure he was okay. He is, but that just means staying up late dealing with workman’s comp and insurance paperwork. YAY! Uuuuugh kill me now_

_@thatlawguy: LMAO your favorite thing in the world, I see. Lol nah believe me I know the feeling. I’m not just a mechanic. I’m one of the owners. Being a mechanic in itself is fun but as you can imagine, I’m in charge of making sure paperwork is in order. My business partner isn’t very paperwork savvy. Especially when it comes to repairing accident-damaged vehicles. Paperwork out the asssssss! XD_

_@fireflight783: OMG I know exactly what you mean! Ugh this one time someone tried to sue my company for improper disposal of chemicals. Turns out, they didn’t tell their spouse that animals are to be kept away from any treated surface for a full hour before its safe to let them do their business. As you can imagine, it ended in our favor, but the paperwork that was involved in that whole mess? Gun, mouth, pew!_

_@thatlawguy: LOLOL oh wow…that’s…wow I got no words for that lol. I’m glad your business didn’t go under. That would be a really crappy way to end something that’s been in your family for so long._

_@fireflight783: we’ve gotten past worse, I can tell you that much. It was a few years ago so it’s long forgotten now I’m sure. How long have you owned the garage?_

_@thatlawguy: a little over 5 years, but my partner and I are actually brothers. Our father owned it before us, started it when we were babies. When he died in 2006, it was passed onto us. I had just graduated from law school and got a job close to home, so I wasn’t in a position to run it. My brother understood that, but after a while, I needed to get away from being a lawyer. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be. I’m happy now._

_@fireflight783: I’m glad! Everyone deserves to be happy. No matter what they’re doing. Otherwise, you’re not living. You’re just existing. And who wants that?_

Sam stared at the words for a few heartbeats. She’s right, he thought. If anything in hunting had taught him anything, it was exactly that. Sam spent so many years of his life rejecting hunting and what it meant to his family. Now as an adult, he knows what he’s been doing has helped so many more people than it hurt. Than he hurt. He’s not proud of all he’s done. Between the psychic whatever he had once upon a time, betraying Dean by running off with Ruby, the demon addiction, just the name of few.

But he knows he’s saved lives. Many people are living and breathing because of what he and Dean do. And that was something worth living for.

—

It didn’t matter what they were doing or where they were going, somehow Sam and Dean always managed to run into you. Whether it was on a hunt or out and about, you found your way into their day to day lives. While Sam didn’t mind the company, Dean was starting to get a little wigged out.

“Should we be testing her for witch powers?” Dean said one day, many weeks into these coincidental meetings, “because the only person who ever knew where we were gonna be at the precise moment was Rowena!”

“If she was a witch, then she probably would’ve killed us already,” Sam mused back. “Every witch still alive knows us and wants us dead.”

“Yeah but they’re too fucking scared to do anything about it unprovoked and they know it,” Dean smirked as he finished his sentence. “But seriously. We met her, what, almost two months ago? And ever since, it’s like she’s been following us around!”

“She hasn’t been following us! If she was, she’d already be living with us in the bunker.” Sam looked at Dean. “What’s your problem today?”

“Nothing, it’s just weird, that’s all. What, this doesn’t freak you out?”

Sam chuckled. “It’s gonna take a lot more than a pretty girl following me around to wig me out, dude.”

“Oh, so she’s pretty now?” Dean raised a sly eyebrow at his not-so little brother. It’s the same cheesy look he gave Sam every time he showed even a tiny bit of interest in a girl. It was like he had to keep proving he wasn’t gay.

“Dude, enough.”

“What?”

“You give me that creepy side eye look every time I mentioned a girl and you’ve been doing it since we were kids. You’re almost forty, start acting like it!”

“Okay fine, next time pretty little Y/N comes around, ask her out. She couldn’t be more perfect for you.”

“What?” Sam’s law dropped to the floor.

“Hey, if I could choose a woman for you, I’d rather it be a hunter. And one that knows her shit. I mean, the amount of time it took for her to dig that grave for the revenant in Saginaw? It’s like she did it on The Flash’s dime. She’s efficient, and smart. You need a girl like that in your life, Sammy.”

Sam pondered over his brother’s words. On the one hand, he knew he was right. Sam wanted to find a girl to date, and what better person to date than another hunter? But on the other hand, he was still holding out hope that his mystery match online would be the one. He was really liking her, whoever she was. They’d been talking for a while now. Maybe it was time for him to take the next step. Maybe ask her for her name or where she lives… hell, maybe even get her phone number.

But before he could think any further on the subject, there was a knock on the Impala’s window.

Sam’s heart skipped a beat as you smiled down upon them. Then you helped yourself to the backseat and sat down, closing the door with its familiar squeaky  _thwack!_

“Hey boys,” you said cheerfully, handing them each a paper sack. “I come bearing gifts!”

Dean eagerly opened the baggy and pulled out some warm glazed donuts. Sam pulled out the same thing. He smiled at you.

“Thank you,” Sam said. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Shut up, you idiot, of course she did. I mean, we did save her life and all,” Dean’s eyebrows wiggled at you, which caused your eyes to roll before shooting Sam a smile.

“So,” you began, “why are you two sitting in the parking lot of a diner? Aren’t you gonna go inside?”

“Why would we when we have food right here?” Dean quipped, causing you to laugh.

Dean shot Sam a wink before announcing. “Well, you crazy kids have fun, I gotta go hit the head. Don’t get too wild, okay?”

A panicked expression shot across Sam’s face as his brother walked away from the Impala, laughing to himself. It quickly disappeared as soon as you looked between the two of them.

You got the hint: Sam didn’t do too well when it came to dealing with girls. You found that cute.

“So, Sam,” you scooted closer to him from the back seat, “what say you and I go out for coffee sometime next, huh? I’d uh…I’d like to get to know you better.”

Sam could feel his heart pounding painfully against his sternum. He  _really_  wanted to say yes. Hell, he probably needed to for his own sake.

But he also knew he couldn’t.

“Y/N,” Sam began slowly, taking a breath to calm his aching heartbeat, “you’re a really lovely person. A-and, ignore what Dean said, you don’t owe us anything. We were just doing our jobs.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming…”

“But…I’m sorry Y/N but there’s someone else in my life…who…well, I…”

“Hey,” you held your hand up to stop him, smiling, “it’s okay. You don’t have to explain it any further. I get it. I wouldn’t want to intrude on that.”

Sam let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank you. I’m sorry…I didn’t want to break your heart…I really didn’t..”

“You can’t break a heart that doesn’t exist.” You laughed, brushing it off.

Sam smiled slightly, but your words troubled him too.

What did you mean by that? You said your goodbyes and headed back towards your little two seater truck, fired up the engine and drove away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written For: SPN AU Bingo  
> Square Filled: online dating

* * *

 

You might have brushed off Sam’s rejection like it was no big deal or a regular occurrence, but you couldn’t lie to yourself.

Your heart was broken.

You really liked Sam. Wanted to get to know him better. Wanted to know the man behind the stories and apparent folklore. But it would never come to pass. Such was not your fate. Sam had someone else in his life.

You wanted to be happy for him. That he wasn’t alone in his struggles. But you couldn’t help the bitterness spreading like a plague through your veins.

Walking over to the computer, you logged back into your Love Awaits profile and saw a message from law boy.

You did something you didn’t think you’d ever do. You deleted the message and turned off your computer.

Was it selfish and mean to take your bitterness and heartbroken demeanor out on your online mystery match? Most definitely. But it couldn’t be helped. You just weren’t in the mood to talk to thatlawguy tonight and you felt like you’d never be able to again. The man you  _really_ wanted was unavailable. The man you had your heart set on in real life was happy with someone else. And it bothered you.

So that night, you decided to pour yourself a glass of wine and sulk. In your loneliness. In your bitter attitude. Eventually your sulking in alcohol and feelings turned into fat, ugly tears. You cried for the man you wanted. Which sounded really childish but you’d learned early on not to suppress your true emotions and feelings. It was why you’d taken the first step to asking Sam out. Only to be shot down.

Sleep did not come easy for you that night. And it wouldn’t for quite a while.

—–

Sam was worried as hell.

It had been seven weeks since his FireFlight had talked to him. He had gotten so accustomed to talking with her every night over the last four months that not talking with her seemed scarily unusual.

After the first few days of no communication, Sam figured she was just really busy with work and she’d get back to him when she could. She did run her own business after all. But then two weeks went by, then a month, then a few more weeks after that.

By that point, Sam was concerned he’d said something to push her away. Rereading all of their shared messages, he didn’t think he said anything out of the ordinary, or rude, or condescending. She didn’t delete her account otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to message her at all. Her profile wouldn’t even be searchable.

And of course he was just dumb enough not to ask for other contact information, like her phone number or a personal email address. Loveawaits.com was Sam’s only way of contacting her.

Sam took some drastic measure to try and find her. But luck was not on his side. A reverse IP address lookup revealed that whoever was behind the firefly icon, she had it blocked using a highly-encrypted VPN. He used a search engine to try and find anything else attached to the username FireFlight783; sometimes people use the same username for every site they have an account for. But the only place that username was attached to was the dating site.

He started contact people to see if anyone knew about this woman, but in order to avoid a panic he didn’t mention anything about her potentially being missing. He got nowhere with that.

Out of options and desperate, Sam did the only thing he could think of.

He told Dean about his online dating adventures.

And it was met with about as much mocking scrutiny that he expected.

After Dean was done laughing at the fact that his brother was looking for a girl on a dating site, he got serious when Sam mentioned she could be in trouble. But without any concrete proof that she was in any real danger, Dean attempted to put his mind at ease.

“Look, you said she runs her own business right? Then that probably means she’s been too busy with work to message you back. Technically, we run our own business and it hasn’t exactly been easy on us over the years, has it?”

“I just can’t shake this…feeling,” Sam huffed. “We’ve been talking for months. And then she just suddenly disappears? I don’t know, man, it sounds fishy to me.”

“Well unless the cops start asking questions and trace your account back to the bunker, I’m sure everything’s fine. When has a girl every just ghosted on you without telling you to your face that you suck?”

“Shut up.”

Dean laughed again, but reigned in his amusement. “I’m serious about this, Sam. I’m sure you’re little firefly is fine. Don’t worry about it so much. Okay?”

Sam sighed but knew Dean was right. He was overreacting. FireFlight was a big girl who could take care of herself. She didn’t need him acting like an overly attached boyfriend without actually being her boyfriend.

He went back to the library and got back on his computer, logging into his account. Taking a deep breath, he started to write out a new message. His first one in almost two months.

_@thatlawguy: Hey fire. I know it’s been a long while, but I hope you’re doing okay. If you don’t wanna talk anymore, just tell me. I’m a big boy and I’ll understand. I’ll respect any decision you make. I hope you know that._

About ten minutes went by, and the most beautiful sound Sam’d ever heard pinged on his laptop. Heart racing, he opened his messages to see a reply. Relief flooded his insides as he read her response.

_@fireflight783: hey law boy. I’m so sorry I haven’t been around. Life hasn’t been…well let’s just say life’s been very hard on me. Please don’t stop talking to me. I enjoy our conversations and I want to keep this going. I’ve been in a bad head space. And ignoring you didn’t help at all. So for that, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me._

_@thatlawguy: you’re already forgiven, my dear :) I won’t lie, I was so worried about you. I thought something might’ve happened to you. It was painful to think about._

_@fireflight783: …really? Wow that… I needed to hear that…thank you. Thank you for your concern. It might not mean anything to you, but it means the world to me. You care._

_@thatlawguy: of course, you’re welcome. Are you at least safe now?_

_@fireflight783: yes, I am._

A minute passed before she sent Sam another message.

_@fireflight783: You know what I wish?_

_@thatlawguy: what’s that?_

_@fireflight783: that we could’ve exchanged contact information sooner. That I didn’t waste so much time living within my own toxic mindset…_

_@thatlawguy: well…I’m here for you…whatever that takes…so…do you want to exchange contact information now? I mean, we’ve been talking for months and…I’d be honored to get, at the very least, an email address? :)_

Rereading his message, you contemplated what to tell law boy. He was right; the two of you had been talking for months. If you’d stopped being an idiot a long time ago, the two of you probably would’ve met in person by now. But there was no point in dwelling on the shoulda, coulda, woulda. This was the here and now.

You gave him one of your backup email addresses. One that you didn’t use for hunter communications. He gave you an email address in return.

What you didn’t know was that Sam had created a new email address just for the purposes of communicating with you outside the site. thatlawguy@qmail.com seemed innocent enough, and it wouldn’t come back to anyone directly associated with his real name. He even put a fake name down that wasn’t one of his overused rock aliases from hunts’ passed.

A chime on his phone rang out and he pulled it out to see an email from one fireflight783@qmail.com.  _Great minds think alike,_  Sam mused at the email address.

_“Now that we’re on a more personal level, my name is Anya. Email me anytime. This is my personal email, not tied to work. Try and keep the nudes to a minimum as I do check it at work ;) lol  
~Anya”_

Sam smiled at the email. He typed a quick reply.

_“The only way you’ll see me naked is if we’re in person. You know, if you wanna go THAT personal lol. My name’s Harry, by the way. It’s a pleasure to put a beautiful name to the firefly <3”_

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Harry.” You drew the name across your tongue.

It sounded like a boring name, but Harry also sounded like someone who could be a prestigious, future husband. You giggled at the thought.

_“Well then. Harry. Would you like to meet in person? Perhaps next weekend?”_

Now it was Sam’s turn to miss a heartbeat.

_She wants to meet,_  he thought.  _Finally!_

_“I would be honored. How far away are you from Lawrence, Kansas? It’s my hometown.”_

Sam figured the farther away they met from the bunker, the better. Though, if she wanted to go back to ‘his place,’ he would be caught dead in all his lies. Then he’d be back at square one. His phone chimed again.

_“As a matter of fact, I’m a born and raised Kansas City, Kansas native. Not too far away at all. I can meet anywhere you want in Lawrence. Name the place and time, and I’ll be there.”_

Sam set up a time to meet Anya next weekend. He remembered there was a coffee shop on the main drag through downtown Lawrence and felt it would be perfect. Anya agreed and send him a screenshot of her calendar with the date, time, and place of their future meeting. Anya bade him goodnight and, according to her icon on the email app, went offline.

Sam went to bed that night more excited than he’d been in a long time.

—–

The following week flew by and before you even realized it, it was Saturday. You were set to meet Harry at a cafe in Lawrence that evening around eight. You hated lying to him, but given your line of work, your _real_ line of work, he couldn’t know everything about you just yet. You wanted to ease him into it.  _Give him a chance to ponder it before he runs screaming,_  you thought.

Your townhouse was only a thirty minute drive from the coffee shop. You dressed in your best attire for meeting someone new in this context, then you got into your car and made your way to Lawrence, Kansas.

Arriving at seven-fifty-four, you decided to grab a late and wait for your mystery match to show up. You were buzzing with excitement and energy that had nothing to do with the coffee in your hand. Looking at your watch every minute it seemed, you wondered what kind of car Harry drove.

At three minutes past eight, you heard the familiar rumble of a certain old, conspicuous, sleek black 1967 Chevrolet Impala drive up and park across the street.

And low and behold, Sam Winchester got out and headed straight for the cafe.

Your heart plummeted as you tried to hide yourself. Sam went inside, and from the looks of it, he was looking for something. Or someone.  _Maybe it’s his beloved,_  you thought bitterly. He went to the counter and paid for a bottle of water before walking back outside. You saw him pull out his phone to check the time. You decided to pass the time by bothering him.

“Sam!”

“Y/N?” Sam stood up. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you folded your arms across your chest. “You look anxious, Sam, are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he assured you, though you didn’t look convinced. “Yeah just, uh…waiting for someone, that’s all.”

You nodded at him and were about to walk away, but your phone chimed in your pocket. You pulled it out to see a message from Harry.

_“I’m outside the coffee shop, far end table. I’ll be waiting for you, Anya. Can’t wait to meet you. -Harry”_

You looked between your phone and Sam, and your world started to spin. Before you could stop yourself, you turned back around to face Sam. And it all became clear.

“Law boy?”

Sam slowly looked up at you, shock etched into his facial features. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

“No…w-wait…” He looked back down at his phone and then back at you. His breathing became ragged as he spoke. “You’re FireFlight783.”

You suddenly couldn’t breathe, the air around you crushing your lungs. Dark spots danced within your vision, causing it to swim in a big wave of dizziness and anxiety.

Sam was your mystery match. Sam was @thatlawguy. And Harry didn’t exist at all.

The last thing you heard was Sam shouting your name as you collapsed into his arms.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written For: SPN AU Bingo  
> Square Filled: online dating

* * *

 

As you went limp in his arms, Sam’s mind was reeling.

You were his mystery match. You were FireFlight783. Which not only meant that Anya wasn’t anyone who actually existed, but a lot of things you had told him suddenly made sense.

But that could wait. Sam started shaking you gently to arouse you. A small crowd started to gather around the two of you. One person came out from the coffee shop and announced they were a doctor, asking if they could help. Sam declined and scooped you up, much like he did in Saginaw, and carried you to the Impala.

It was going to be a four hour or so drive back to the bunker, but now that he knew who exactly you were, he had no problem bringing you back to “his place.”

—

Halfway to Lebanon, you started to stir from the passenger seat of Sam’s car. The rumble of the 327 under the Impala’s hood had you confused at first. You sat up and saw Sam behind the wheel.

“Where are we?” you asked, your voice slightly slurred. You really needed to go see a doctor and ask why you were so prone to prolonged loss of consciousness.

“Halfway to Lebanon, Kansas,” Sam answered without taking his eyes off the road. “How are you feeling, Y/N?”

There was no malice in his voice. No contempt. You recognized he was genuinely concerned for your well being. It made you weary.

“My head hurts,” you began, “but… I don’t understand. Why are you taking me to Lebanon?”

“Well,” Sam took a deep breath, “it’s where I live. Well, where I  _actually_  live. And it’s a refuge for hunters. You ever heard of the Men of Letters?”

“Men of Letters are a group of extinct, over-glorified librarians. They’re defunct.”

“Maybe. But my grandfather was a legacy. And when Dean and I discovered we were legacies by blood, we were given the keys to their bunker. Uh, it’s kinda like a secret lair-”

“Sam, that’s great and all, but I don’t want to go with you. Take me back to my car. Now!”

Sam pulled the car over and turned it off, then gave you a hard look.

“Y/N, you have another concussion. You’re slurring your words. And I’m very worried about you. Please, let me take you back to my place. We have several spare bedrooms you can rest in, we can give you whatever it is you need, then…I’d like the opportunity to talk about this. I mean, we went months thinking we were someone else online. I won’t keep you against your will, but I do think you need a little help right now. So please. Let me help you. It’s the least I can do.”

You gave him an equally hard look, but ultimately knew he was right. Even now, your head was still throbbing in time with your heart and the sounds of the road and outdoors made you slightly nauseous. You had no doubt that, when you did get better, he would drive you back to Lawrence so you could retrieve your car and go home.

You huffed an annoyed breath before sitting back in your seat. Sam restarted the car and continued the drive.

You took another nap and awoke to the car pulling inside a garage filled with cars old enough to be the Impala’s parents. Sam killed the engine and walked to the passenger side, helping you out. You were in no position to fight him off, so you allowed him to help you stabilize. Just then, Dean walked out into the garage. He gave a puzzled look from you to his brother.

“What’s Y/N doing here? Where’s Anya?”

Sam looked at Dean with a determined look. “Y/N  _is_  Anya.”

Dean blinked. “Ohhh. Wow…that’s uh…”

“Yeah,” Sam said as he ushered you towards the kitchen. Dean followed closely behind.

“So, all this time?” Dean began. “Your little mystery match was Y/N?”

“Guys, can we not do this now, please?” You started massaging your temple, the bright lights in the kitchen causing your head to ache more.

Sam gave Dean a silent look, Dean returned it with his own silent communication, and Sam showed you to one of the spare bedrooms.

You didn’t remember throwing yourself on the bed, passing out for the remainder of the night.

—

Two weeks went by while you recovered at the bunker. Sam eventually didn’t give you a choice and took you, kicking and screaming, to a doctor in town. After a thorough check up and blood work, you were given a clean bill of health, but told to keep the “extreme sports” to a minimum.

After that, you decided it was time to sit down with Sam and discuss all that had happened. You found him in the library (which you swore gave you an orgasm every time you saw the shelves upon shelves of lore books; it truly was a hunter and bibliophile’s dream).

“Hey Sam,” you said softly.

“Hey,” he replied with a small smile, setting his book down. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks,” you sat across from him. A short, comfortable silence passed before he spoke up again.

“So, uh…pest control, huh?”

You laughed. “It wasn’t all a lie…”

“True. Actually, thinking about it, it’s not an inaccurate comparison to hunting in general.”

“Were you ever a mechanic?”

It was Sam’s turn to laugh. “No. But my dad was. Before…before he became a hunter. Ran a garage in Lawrence with a friend.”

You nodded in response. “I’ve heard the stories about how to left Stanford before graduating.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied with a nod of his own. “Yeah, I was, uh…I was a few months from graduating pre-law. Even had an interview to attend Stanford on a full ride to full-blown law school. But then…” He let his sentence trail off, his expression far away from you.

“Jessica.”

He flinched slightly. You lowered your gaze, instantly regretting bringing it up. You felt a hand warm yours from the table. You looked up to see Sam smiling at you.

“It’s okay…I’ve made peace with her death, despite how unfair it was. I did it a long time ago. The things that played out in my life…it was decided before I was born. It can’t be helped now. But, if you’ll allow me…I’d like to move on… to better things…”

You paused, looking him in the eyes. There was a warmth there, a kind of glow that he clearly didn’t show everyone. You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to like what you were about to say.

“Sam…” a breath passed between your lips, “I know why you sent me away now. You were holding out hope that your online match would come through for you. I know that doesn’t matter now considering I was your match all along but…I don’t know, this is a lot for me. I’m still trying to wrap my brain around the fact that you’re thatlawguy. But…your rejection hurt. I brushed it off because I didn’t want you to feel bad about it, but… Sam, I need time to process this. I don’t know where we stand. And I want to figure it out. But I can’t do it here. I need to go home.”

Sam’s eyes were sad, but his face didn’t change its expression. He just nodded and wordlessly got up to find the Impala’s keys. You went back to the room you’d been staying in and got your purse. Sam led you to the garage and opened the passenger side door for you.

Then, the two of you began the four hour trip back to Lawrence, and you hoped and prayed your car hadn’t been towed from the coffee shop’s parking lot.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written For: SPN AU Bingo  
> Square Filled: online dating

* * *

 

You praised all the gods you didn’t believe in when Sam dropped you off by your car later that evening. You decided it was probably a good idea to exchange phone numbers with him. He saved your number in his phone as “FireFlight783” just for the humor of it. You felt your cheeks heat up as you saved his number as “Law Boy”. He laughed at that.

“So,” Sam began after he opened your driver side door for you, letting you slip inside behind the wheel and closing it afterwards, “call me when you’re ready. Whatever you decide. I do wanna hear from you again.”

You just nodded and smiled, but you were dying inside.

The whole situation felt so awkward now. And you didn’t know why. The short drive back to your townhouse was filled with internal strife as you tried to contemplate why it bothered you so much.

You had no reason to feel this amount of anguish towards Sam. Yeah, he rejected you initially when you asked him out, but in reality, he was holding out on meeting you, not knowing it was you. It wasn’t his fault; both of you were following the rules and guidelines laid out by Love Awaits. You both were playing it safe.

What also made it awkward was he didn’t hesitate to treat you with added kindness once he learned you were his online match. In fact, he went well out of his way to ensure you were safe and well cared for. It was almost like he was expressing his sorrow for sending you away in the first place, even though he didn’t know he was sending away his online mystery match.

So why did it feel so damn out of place to be in his presence? Was it because he wasn’t who he said he was? You couldn’t throw stones in that glass house, you did the same thing. Or was it because it was Sam, and you’d had a crush on the guy since he pulled you out of that Victorian house in Saginaw several months ago?

Love had a douchebag way of fucking with feelings, you mused internally. But one thing was true. You did need time to think about this. You just wish you had a clear timeline of how much time you needed. You didn’t want to lead Sam on. But you also didn’t want to lie to him anymore.

Pulling up to your complex and walking towards your front door, you left those thoughts there. You grabbed a wine glass, poured yourself some chardonnay, grabbed a book and drew up a hot bath. You were going to need a good, long soak.

—

Weeks went by before Sam was convinced you were done with him.

You hadn’t returned any of his calls, emails, or text messages. You had also deleted your profile on Love Awaits, so he didn’t have a backup way to contact you. While the rejection hurt, what hurt more was the fact that you hadn’t had the courtesy to tell him anything, despite previously letting him know you would if it ever came to that.

He went from worried, to sad, to angry.

You were nothing like the woman you portrayed online. Sam was convinced you were cold and just used him to get whatever it was the two of you had had. He had known too many people in his life that had manipulated him into getting what they wanted, and each one hurt in their own way.

But with you, it was personal. He felt it in his very heart. And that pain only fueled an anger he thought was long dormant.

Sam was pretty sure if you did call him one day, he wouldn’t bother picking up the phone.

All of this didn’t go unnoticed by Dean. If anyone knew Sam better than he knew himself, it was his big brother. The man practically raised him on his own from a young age.

“Sam,” Dean said one day while Sam sat at the kitchen table, brooding. “You gotta snap outta this, dude. You’re eating yourself up alive over Y/N. You gotta let it go. It’s not healthy.”

Sam’s jaw ticked in annoyance; he didn’t reply.

“Well, in case you wanted to take your mind off her, I found a case. It’s in Colorado. An actual vengeful spirit this time. None of that revenant crap. You in?”

Sam once again didn’t say anything. So Dean just left the case file in front of him on the table and started to leave.

“How long?”

Dean turned to face his brother’s voice. “What?”

“How long is the drive?”

—

Sitting in his usual shotgun seat in the Impala as Dean drove, Sam continued to stare out the window. His thoughts were still plagued by you.

Dean turned on the radio and a local classic rock station sounded throughout the car. Normally Sam would’ve told his brother to turn down the music, but he willfully ignored it. Dean didn’t say anything.

They arrived at their destination’s only motel, and Sam’s mood was still sour. The Winchesters made their way inside the room and wasted no time getting ready to go Fed their way through the case, in total silence to boot.

After talking with the locals and law enforcement, it definitely was a vengeful spirit and their remains were tied to the town’s abandoned city hall, a six story building with broken windows and rubbish strewn around the property. Rock-salt filled shotguns in hand, this case should be easy picking for a couple of veterans hunters such as Sam and Dean.

“Sammy, I hope you got your head in the game, because if you don’t, it could end very badly for us.”

“I know that,” Sam ground his teeth in a snarl. He knew it wasn’t fair to take his anger out on Dean, but he couldn’t help it. He knew how to do his job, real life problems be damned.

They entered the building and started scoping the place. Floors one through five held nothing but broken furniture, light fixtures that hung askew on the walls and ceilings, dilapidated decorations that once held life and showcased one’s pride in their hometown, and the usual peelings of paint and wallpaper on the walls. The sixth and top-most floor held much of the same thing. Sam let out a frustrated huff.

“Where the hell is this thing?” Sam said, looking around as he let the hand holding his gun drop to his side lazily.

Dean’s eyes widened as something appeared behind his brother, and before he could yell “Sammy look out!” the vengeful spirit they were looking for materialized itself behind Sam. With a wave of its undead, semi-corporeal hand, Sam was flown from where he stood and out a broken window. He plummeted down six stories onto the deteriorating concrete below.

Forgetting all about the case, Dean raced down six flights of stairs and out the door to his brother’s side.

Sam was unmoving, bleeding from multiple places, and not breathing.

Dean pulled out his cell phone and called 911, the tears already starting to form in his emerald green eyes.

—

Hunts that were far away from Kansas had become your specialty in recent weeks. You were purposefully avoiding any chance of running into Sam or Dean.

You had meant to return Sam’s calls and emails and the like, but you just didn’t know what to say to him. Would he even accept an apology at this point? Would he still want to move forward with you? The longer you waited, the more the answer in your mind was probably a hard ‘no.’

Cleaning off the machete you used to behead an entire nest of vampires, you were walking back towards your car, caked in blood and guts and very satisfied at the completion of yet another hunt.

You threw the machete back in the trunk of your car and made your way towards the driver’s seat. When you were settled in and turning over the ignition, your cell phone rang.

The words “Law Boy” lit up on the smartphone’s screen.

Your heart sped up slightly. Why would he be calling me now? And especially at three in the morning?

Your instincts started screaming at you. Something wasn’t right. You answered the phone.

“Sam?”

_“Uh, actually it’s Dean, his brother?”_

Internally trying to calm your thrashing instincts, you swallowed. “Oh hey Dean. What’s up?.” You paused. “Is everything alright?”

A beat passed before Dean let out a shaky breath. You could tell he was upset.

_Oh no._

_“No, uh… Y/N, it’s Sam… he, uh…we were on a hunt, and…it went bad.”_

Your heart all but stopped. “Bad…how?”

_“Vengeful spirit threw him from a six story building. He…Y/N he’s in a coma…doctors are telling me…” you heard Dean stifle a cry. “Y/N they’re telling me he’s going to die. He’s too hurt. And there’s nothing they can do anymore. I figured, you know…if anyone…well, it was best you heard it from me rather than any other hunter…”_

Several fast heartbeats went by before you said with a cold steel voice, “where are you?”

—

The drive to a Colorado trauma unit was the longest you’d ever driven and you felt like you were on your way to yet another hunter’s wake. What Dean told you over the phone probably didn’t compare to whatever site you were to be met with when you got there.

Sure enough, you were right. And your inside churned at the sight.

Sam looked so broken, so small in his hospital bed. He was attached to every life-sustaining machine a hospital could carry. He wasn’t breathing on his own so he was hooked up to a ventilator. His vital signs were barely holding on, and all four limbs were in some kind of bone-immobilizing contraption. Dean sat in a seat right next to his side. But when you slowly entered the room, he got up from his chair. He opened his arms for you and you took advantage of his embrace, not shying away from sobbing.

Sam was going to die. And you regretted missing every opportunity to talk to him sooner.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for: SPN AU Bingo  
> Square Filled: Online Dating

* * *

 

 

Day and night, you sat by Sam’s bedside. The only reason you even ate or slept somewhere that wasn’t inside his room was because Dean told you to. You didn’t have the energy to argue, so when he told you to leave, you did without question.

Sam’s condition remained unchanged, but he wasn’t getting worse anymore according to his doctors. But that didn’t change the severity of the situation.

Sam had broken all four lanky limbs, his chest was crushed from behind, leaving him with hardly anything left of his rib cage (which meant his heart and lungs weren’t as protected anymore). Both of his lungs had collapsed in the impact of the fall, which was why he wasn’t breathing when Dean found him. While the lungs were reinflated and repaired, he still wasn’t strong enough to breathe on his own, hence the ventilator. He was given at least a dozen pints of blood to combat the internal bleeding, and he had a skull fracture that damn near punctured his brain.

“If he does ever wake up,” the doctor explained, “there’s no telling what his mental state will be in. He could be perfectly fine, or he could be mentally challenged for good.”

“What can be done?” you asked, tears in your eyes.

“Honestly? Pray.”

While the doctor’s answer wasn’t exactly comforting, you knew they were right. There wasn’t anything more that could be done for Sam. You weren’t about to start praying though; no angel would help anyone associated with the Winchesters.

So you did the next best thing: you started digging up lore. Finding your own way to help Sam.

—

Weeks went by with Sam slowly starting to show improvement. The casts had come off his legs and one arm. All the pins and plates that were put inside Sam’s chest to stabilize his rib cage were also removed, which meant he would eventually become strong enough to start breathing on his own. Which is something you were looking forward to; the ventilator machine that kept his lungs functional was starting to become annoying. Besides, all you wanted to do was kiss his lips, not the stubble that had developed over his unshaven face. Shallow? Probably. But you’d done enough lying over the last several months.

Which brought your thoughts to a topic you hadn’t really thought about in a while.

You were definitely in love with Sam.

And you were hoping with all your heart that he woke up so you could tell him.

A few minutes later, an MRI tech came in the room and announced that Sam’s doctor ordered another head scan and she was there to wheel him down to radiology. You’d asked if you could come with them, but told them nevermind, despite the young scrubs-clad woman saying yes. You were scared seeing Sam like this on the outside. You didn’t want to know what he looked like on the inside. Not like this.

Twenty minutes later, Sam was brought back into the room and Dean arrived right behind them.

“So,” Dean said, “any changes?”

“I don’t know,” the tech said, an apologetic look on her face. “I just take the pictures and develop the film. It’s the doctor who’s the interpreter.”

Dean smiled slightly at the analogy she used.

“When will the doctor be back to talk to us about it?” You asked.

“Well I send the scans to him right before we came back. I imagine he’ll be back in later today.”

You nodded your thanks as she left the room. Dean took a seat by Sam’s left side, you sat in the chair closest to the door. The sounds of all the machines were the only noises in the room for a long time.

Then Dean spoke up.

“Tell me something, Y/N.” You looked up at him, acknowledging you were listening to him. “Sam told me your username. I’m curious. What’s the story behind it?”

You smiled as the memories washed through your mind’s eye. “When I was a kid, my parents used to boast that I’d be someone important one day. You know how parents can be. ‘A doctor, a lawyer, that’s what my kid’s gonna be someday!’ But I used to tell them all the time that I couldn’t decide between a firefighter or a pilot. I wanted to be both. But even at that age, it seemed impossible. I wasn’t aware there were pilots who dropped giant amounts of fire suppressant agents over large forest fires.” You ended that sentence with a chuckle and continued. “My dad used to call me his ‘firefly’. Because, according to him, I shined ‘brightly even in the darkest of days.’

“But when I was seventeen, I came home from school one day to find both my parents lying in a pool of their own blood. There was a woman standing over them. And her eyes were black.”

Dean drew in a slow breath. “Demons.”

You nodded. “It was my first taste of the supernatural. The demon tried to gank me too. But I tripped over the space heater. And it ignited the curtains it was sitting next to. I barely got out in time. The demon smoked out before her meat burned alongside my parents’ remains.”

The two of you sat in silence again, the sound of Sam’s heart beating through the monitor keeping you both company.

“Everyone gets their start in hunting, and it’s usually bad, and bloody,” you continued. “I still have dreams about my childhood home going up in flames.”

“And that’s why your icon on that website was a firefly with a burning building in the background.”

“It represents my origins. Where I came from as a hunter. And as horrible as it is, as well as nightmare inducing as it still can be, even years later, it’s still part of my story. And…I’m proud of where I come from.”

Dean sat there and took in the information like a sponge. He could understand that perspective perfectly. His and Sam’s storyline was made for them before they were born. They were always destined to do what they do now. And because of it, they were heroes. Even if the ones they saved never told them to their faces, it didn’t change that fact. He also imagined that you were viewed in a similar manner. One thing that is common among most hunters. They’re all considered heroes to someone out there. Every person they save is a win for the good guys.

The monitors started going crazy. You and Dean were on high alert as you got up from your seat. As the two of you did, Sam started choking on his breathing tube. His eyes opened wide and were wild, panicked. Dean ran out of the room to call for help while you got Sam to focus on you.

“It’s okay, Sam, it’s okay, I’m here,” you smoothed back his hair as he continued to fight the ventilator. You pressed your lips to his temple and continued your soft cooing in an attempt to get him to relax. But you knew it wasn’t going to be of any use. Until the doctor removed Sam from the machine, he was going to be fighting with every ounce of strength he had.

A flurry of medical professionals swarmed the room; Sam was losing his battle with the devices attached to him. You could hear his heart racing through the monitor. It showed his heart rate to be over 200, and that scared you. If they didn’t act soon, Sam was going to suffocate.

The doctor all but pushed you out of the way as he started the extubation process. Within about 60 seconds, Sam was inhaling big gulps of air on his own, a stethoscope to his chest and multiple people checking up on him. All while you stood there and watched.

The doctor put his stethoscope away and got Sam to sit up in bed. “How are you feeling, son?”

Sam looked between the doctor and you. A tear was starting to bubble up from the corner of his eye as he spoke in a grainy voice. “A little tired, but…I’m okay…alive, I guess…”

The doctor gently patted him on the back of the shoulder before coming to speak to you. “I can’t explain it. Medically, this isn’t possible. He should still be comatose. I’m gonna order more tests and another brain scan to see where we sit.”

You nodded at the doctor and he and the rest of the staff left the room, giving you and Sam some privacy.

Nobody noticed Dean slipping out of the room. Nobody saw him take a walk outside towards the Impala. He fished out an old flask and took a deep drink of the whiskey inside. The burning liquid slithered down his throat and did something to quell the queasiness in the pit of his stomach.

Something was definitely not right. Sam wasn’t supposed to be conscious right now let alone perfectly fine. Not from this. And not without help. But he’d been watching you and Sam since he was admitted to the ICU. While you had been researching a way to help his little brother, you never found it.

Dean had to inquire to other sources.

“Cas?” Dean called out. “Cas, are you there?”

The familiar flutter of wings sounded around Dean’s person before the angel Castiel appeared before him.

“Hello, Dean,” the angel said in his usual monotonous tone.

“What did you do?”

“Excuse me?”

“What. Did. You. Do?” Dean repeated, voice harsh and accusatory. While he was glad Sam was going to be okay, he’d never imagined any angel would just step in and help. Castiel continued to stare at him with a slightly confused look. “To Sam, nimrod. What happened to my brother? Doc told us he might not be alive next week, now he’s up and at ‘em?”

Castiel sighed, almost like he was bored, which only fueled Dean’s irritation.

“I didn’t do anything personally.”

Dean shook his head, frustrated.

“But I called in a favor.”

Dean’s eyes shot up to stare at Cas. Cas just smiled slightly.

“Dean,” Castiel began, “there’s something bigger going on here. Sam and Y/N…while they might not be traditional soulmates…Sam dying would have messed up a very important timeline. So…I called in a favor. An angel from my garrison who owed me one…for saving his life.”

Dean just stared at Castiel incredulously. Cas just went on.

“You don’t need to know the details. Just know that…Sam and Y/N were meant to be together. And nothing is going to come between that.”

And with another flutter of wings, Castiel was gone. Leaving Dean alone in the parking lot of the hospital.

Dean shook his head and chuckled to himself before making his way back up to the sixth floor where his brother was.

—

**_One Year Later_ **

There were many things that had happened in your life that made you believe in destiny. In fate.

For one thing, you clearly were destined to become a hunter. You were destined to save lives that way. The angels and all things that screamed “heaven” from your hunting days told you that God didn’t care about His people. It’s why your parents died the way they did; at the hands of a demon.

In your hunting journey, you’d seen how your fate affected other people. The ones whom you did save, as well as the ones whom you couldn’t. Those saved praised you for your work and restoring order in their lives. Even if they’d never know peace of mind again, given what knowledge of the supernatural can do to a person, they were at least better prepared and knew how to protect themselves.

Those who died while you were fighting the “good fight” probably blamed you. You’d never know. You used to blame yourself; they’d still be alive if I would’ve just left them alone, you would tell yourself. But experience had taught you that, even if you hadn’t crossed paths with the inevitable victims of supernatural monsters, either another hunter would have or the monster would just continue on their rampage. And more people would die. You learned not to dwell on it so much.

Fate also had a way of bringing people into your life. Like, say, the Winchesters. Specifically Sam.

Dean eventually told you what Castiel had told him in the parking lot of the hospital all those months ago. And, in your mind, it made sense. Without divine intervention, or whatever, Sam would’ve died from his injuries. Sure, he was steadily getting better, but Dean had prodded Castiel about what could’ve happened if he hadn’t intervened.

_“He would have eventually woken up on his own, but it would have taken a few years, and he would have been permanently brain damaged. You and Y/N would have given up hunting to take for him for the rest of his natural life.”_

_“So, he would’ve been a vegetable.” Dean asked._

_“No. But he would have had the mentality of a toddler. Dressing, bathing, eating, even…restroom activities. He would not have been a functional adult anymore. Truthfully, he would’ve been spared all of that if he had died on impact.”_

The idea that Sam would’ve been mentally handicapped forever if Castiel hadn’t stepped up frightened you terribly. But it didn’t matter now.

Because Sam was standing by a large oak tree, waiting for you to walk down a makeshift aisle in the woods, with Dean by his side and Castiel holding a bible in his hands.

The day you became Y/N Winchester was, without a doubt, a destiny you had to fulfill.


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for: SPN AU Bingo  
> Square Filled: Online Dating

* * *

 

 

“You sure you wanna do this, baby?”

You and Sam were sitting in front of a laptop screen in the bunker’s library, the little camera embedded in the lid of said laptop lit up, indicating it was on. Both of your actions were being mirrored on the screen.

Sam held a snoozing one-month-old infant in his arms and behind you guys, a two year old was sleeping on the couch with a book and sippy cup dangling from his hands, a small blanket draped over his small form.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Sam replied, smiling a tired, father-of-two smile at you. “I’ve wanted to do this since I saw those other videos online. And besides…we made a promise to each other. Remember?”

You smiled an equally tired, mother-of-two smile back at your husband, the father of your sons.

It had been an amazing journey thus far, despite all the hardships you, Sam and Dean had endured. You and Sam were approaching your five-year wedding anniversary. And the two of you promised each other that when that anniversary came around, if you both were still alive, you would make this video to commemorate it.

After the wedding, the two of you didn’t bother with a honeymoon as there was a case that popped up in the same town the two of you had married in. After finishing that one, there was another on in Nebraska.

Round and round and round, you, Sam and Dean went from case to case to case. After a year and a half of non-stop hunting, you fell ill. Breast cancer tried to take you out. You did chemo, radiation, lost your hair and was sick nonstop for what felt like an eternity. By the time the scans came back and showed the chemo did jack squat, cancer spreading to your heart and lungs, you were ready to eat a bullet.

Sam begged Castiel to save you. Pleaded with all the strength he had left for your life.

_“Cas, please. I can’t lose her. She’s the love of my life. If you won’t save her, take me instead. I’d rather die permanently than lose another woman I love. Please. Do something. Save my wife!”_

Castiel told Sam he would do all he could to save you, but he made no promises. But, sure enough, within a week, you were breathing like nothing was wrong. Your heart wasn’t as weak as before, beating strong and loud within your chest. And the scans revealed all the cancer was gone. Permanently.

You knew Sam did something and you had to ask.

_“Please tell me you didn’t sell your soul, or do something equally crazy, in exchange for my life. Sam you know better than that! You know that doesn’t lead to anything good! I can’t lose you!”_

_“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it baby. All that matters is that you’re whole and healthy again. And I made sure cancer never touches your beautiful body again.”_

_“Then tell me what you did, or I’m always gonna worry about it. And I won’t stop pestering you about it either.”_

Sam had no choice but to relent. But once he got done explaining what Cas did, you realized it was going to be okay. Cas would never put you guys in danger willingly.

Which was good, since you had yet to tell Sam you were pregnant.

—

Ten months after being declared cancer free (and promptly blocking all your oncologists’ phone numbers) you gave birth to a baby boy who had a  _very_  healthy set of lungs in him. The look on Sam’s face when he was handed his son was something you wouldn’t trade for all the money in the world. Tears in his eyes, it was like he was born to be a dad. He handled the little tyke with expert precision. He went all out with preparations for the boy’s arrival and by the time he was born, there wasn’t a stone left unturned with his care.

Dean was excited to be an uncle too, and even had no problem cleaning up the mess of the birth in yours and Sam’s room. You were thankful you didn’t need to go to the hospital for the birth; you wanted to have a child right where you lived. Where the baby would live too.

When the baby turned one, you revealed you were pregnant again, and more or less the same things went down. Sam and Dean nested more than you did, which shouldn’t have been the case since you had retired from hunting after your first son was born. Sam and Dean should’ve been on cases, taking on hunts within the area, but neither of them could bear to leave you behind to care for the baby alone. Especially with you being pregnant again.

The men in your life did everything. You barely had to lift a finger, even when you wanted to. So when it came time to give birth to your second child, for once in your life, and for that matter Sam and Dean’s lives, nothing went wrong. And your second son was born within about two hours of going into labor. Perfectly healthy and, like his big brother, could scream away any demon or monster that could have come within two miles of the bunker.

Sam looked at his little family. Dean was washing his hands from cleaning up the mess, you were nursing the newborn while big brother watched the little brother with intense curiosity, and you were talking softly to your oldest.

For the first time in his life, Sam was happy. And everything that was supposed to be, was.

—

A tiny, whimpering cry came from Sam’s arms, and the baby boy balanced on his forearm belly side down started squirming. Sam bent over slightly to whisper shushing coos towards your younger son, stroking his little back with a hand big enough to hold the baby’s entire body in his palm.

It didn’t take but a few extra seconds for the babe to go quiet on his arm again. Sam could always manage to keep the kids calm and collected on his arm like that; the boys always hated when you tried to do the same thing. Sure, you had your own way of keeping the kids tamed, but Sam’s special way of doing things always warmed your heart. Especially since he never thought he would ever be a father.

You were glad you could prove him wrong. Sam Winchester was a phenomenal father. And you were proud to be the mother of his children.

You used the touchpad on the laptop to click the “record” icon on the video camera software.

Both of you took deep breaths, and made eye contact with the camera lens in the computer.

“Hi,” Sam began, “my name is Sam Winchester, and this beautiful woman next to me is my wife, Y/N Winchester.”

“Hello!” You waved at the camera, putting on your best smile.

“And this is our video testimonial submission for loveawaits.com.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a very kind comment to remind me I never finished posting this story on here from Tumblr. So thank you for that my dear! And thank you to everyone who gave this little story so much love! <3


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